Siblings in Misery
by Secret Queen
Summary: She came to him, stole him into peace for the night, and was forced into his mind like a virus. Now she's all he can think about, but a cloud of mystery surrounds her. Has Loki found the light that he needs to get him away from his own shadows? All is told in the dark... Pre-Thor, Loki/OC
1. Words of a Stranger

Welcome! This is my first *actual* story, so by all means, criticize me. I need it.

**Disclaimer: I only own my OC. I do not own Loki. I wish I did. **

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"What a bore…" the Thunder God groaned to his brother. The two of them were attending a gala for the faeries of Asgard. Though the event was impressive, the two Princes were simply distracted. Thor had a tournament that he needed to prepare for; Loki wanted to be back in the palace reading more about a new magic he was learning.

"Do be kind, brother; it's not as if we have a choice," Loki rebuttled.

"I often wonder if Allfather sends us to the happenings he simply wants to avoid. The corners of the dark-haired prince's mouth twitched. "Might as well make the most of it." Thor downed a goblet of ale and took the floor. As soon as his foot hit, you could feel the air change.

Girls began giggling, men defended their places with the partners they had, the musicians were livelier. Those who were sitting along the side followed Thor's lead and joined the group. Soon enough, the majority of the room was on their feet, dancing and laughing, some sober though most drunk.

Laughter and chatter filled the air as Loki watched. He remained in his seat, not interested in the festivities. Public events had always made him weary. They were unnecessary and time consuming. Why waste his time pretending to enjoy himself when he could be learning new magic? Magic like how to create a small fire in ones' hand, projecting an image to confuse the enemy, or even how to mist a room with fog; these things fascinated him. Tumbling through his thoughts, reality slipped his notice. That is, until someone approached him.

"Pardon, Prince Loki?" An alto voice brought him back. The owner was an average heighted girl, lean but not skinny as so many like to find attractive. She was clad in a deep red fitted dress with gold beading cluttered at the top of the dress and scattering down its floor length. It flared out at the hips, giving her an exquisite hourglass shape. How one could wear such a sultry outfit and yet seem so moderate was beyond him. The thing that made her stand out the most was that, unlike most of Asgard, she was dark-haired. Most Asgardians had fair blonde hair, but she had a red so deep, he had to look twice to notice it's presence beneath her chestnut locks. Piercing gray eyes with a spark of bright green around the iris finished her sensual look. Loki was so caught up in the foreign looks she had that he had forgotten she addressed him.

"Yes?" He was stoic in an attempt to hide the moment.

"Might there be anything I can get for you?" _Of course,_ Loki thought to himself. _She __**would**__ be a servant. _

"With due respect to the faeries, the only you could get me would be the chance of parting from here." The Prince needed top get away from the jovial festivities.

The girl was silent for a second before answering, "Well, I could sneak you into the garden. It's been abandoned in favor of the dancing here. It's a peaceful night, as well." Loki was honestly taken aback for a moment. Could he get away from the chaos of this gala?

"Lead the way, then." He stood from his chair, patting his clothes down and adjusting them as needed. The auburn beauty smiled lightly, taking hold of the Prince's hand. He flinched at the contact and went to withdraw, but she tightened her grip. Her eyes locked with him, challenging him to either try to take his hand away or break eye contact. Loki was not one to give up a battle of wits and wills.

After a moments pause, she spoke, "Good. Now stay quiet, and follow my lead." With that, she turned on her heel and tugged him around the back of the chairs. They stayed there momentarily before taking off to a hidden corridor, darkened and drowning with the sounds of the party. Their footsteps were lost in the sound, and with so little light that the only way for them to be spotted would be for someone to literally run into them. A turn here, a few steps there and they were out into the open air.

The stars were above them, the moon lighting the entire plaza. A great willow tree dominated the middle of the space, it's limbs inviting instead of haunting like most. Lilacs stalked the entire perimeter, intoxicating the air with their scent. Eglantine roses, Elderflower, white clovers and blue roses bundled beneath the tree, ringing it and adding splashes of color to the depressing plant. Honeysuckles peppered the luscious green grass, which looked far more inviting then the old stone benches.

Loki had been so caught up in admiring the garden he hadn't notice the servant lay down in the grass. The blades welcomed her presence like a long lost lover, clinging to her body. Her feet kicked up underneath her slightly, one hand at her side that clutched to the roots, while the other propped her head up. Dark hair fanned out around her face, contrasting her pale skin. The Prince stood awkwardly for a moment that went unseen by the stranger, for she had closed her eyes. He looked at the benches, towards the girl, and back to the benches before deciding to continue to follow her lead. He lied next to her, but made absolutely certain that there was an adamant amount to space between them.

"So," her voice cracked the silence. "How is it that one from the royal family isn't fond of gatherings?"

Loki scoffed, "How is it that a peasant can attend something as grand as this?" She opened her eyes and turned her head towards him.

"That was rather charming." The sarcasm dripped from her every word.

"I feel honored to have someone recognize my chivalry." A smirk played on his lips as he felt the beginning of a verbal sparring match. A melodic chime of laughter hit the air. The dark-haired royal turned his head to find his partner laughing with he head tipped back. "Do I humour you?"

"Well, of course." They locked eyes when she replied.

"And why exactly is that, might I inquire?"

"It occurs odd to me for anyone to not notice the heir to the throne of Asgard." He was intrigued by her thoughts.

"Wouldn't it so much simpler if that were the case?" Loki rolled himself back to look at the midnight sky.

"I didn't know that it wasn't like that. My apologies." She hushed and settled back onto the ground.

"You needn't apologize. You are the one who sought me out in the crowd to ask if I wanted anything. That's the most concern anyone has had for me in a spell." _Why am I telling this to the likes of a servant? _Loki wondered to himself. The girls eyebrow furrowed slightly.

"But that's barely anything. A common courtesy, really; a mere trinket of manners. Surely at least your family have shown compassion?" Again, Loki scoffed.

"My family is the core of this. They wish to accept me, and yet the deny me the true feeling of family whilst doing this. Thor never gets told that he's "an honest part of this family", or "deserves love as much as anyone else". He is simply given those niceties." He sighed and rolled onto to his side away from the girl. She was quiet for some time, mulling over his confession.

"You know, I can sympathize with you." _Oh great, here comes the pity party. _Loki thought darkly to himself.

"Of course you can." She didn't like how he simply brushed her away.

"I'm quite serious. I was abandoned as a child and taken in by an elderly couple whom could bare no children. They love me dearly, and I owe them my life, but never have I felt as though I belong. Everyone with the golden complexion to match their golden hair, topped off with the crystal eyes. Not only do I feel an outsider because of my background, but because of my appearance as well. Surely you must see that I do honestly understand your frustrated?" She had sat up, her torso turned towards his back. Loki felt something inside of him quake with her words. It was true; she did honestly understand his feelings. He sat up to look at her. It was an extremely rare occasion when the God of Lies was tongue-tied, but now was one of those times. Every time he would open his mouth to say something, his throat would close up, leaving him gaping like a fish. The red-head smiled lightly in response.

"Come now, let's get you back." She stood and brushed the leaves off of her dress, offering him a hand. He took it, a warm, firm grip meeting his hand. They snuck back into the ball rather surreptitiously. No one had noticed them in the hidden corridor, nor had they noticed them emerge from the wall. But just as Loki was about to resume his seat, he heard _him_ approach.

"Brother!" Thor's voice boomed in greeting. You could smell the alcohol clinging to every fiber of him. "And who might this be, huh? A possible dance partner?"

"Dance? Oh no-" Loki spluttered, another first for the night. Before he could properly defend himself, he was hoisted to up by his cape.

"Come now! You must dance! For Allfather!" And that was the seal.

Loki sighed, and looked towards his temporary savior. Her eyes were shifting between the two males. This small detail caught his attention, as most girls would be fixing their hair, or dress. She, however , remained calm and confident.

"Off you go!" Thor shoved a rough hand onto both of their shoulders, sending them tumbling onto the dance floor.

People automatically moved, as is habit with royalty. An awkward pause followed between the two, but the peasant wasn't one stall. She took hold of Loki's arm, putting it on her waist, and took his hand in hers. The sudden, foreign move made the prince jump slightly.

"Relax," she stated simply. She waited patiently for him to release the tension in his shoulders and take the lead. They started stepping with the group, learning each others' movements.

"I'm sorry to put you in this position." That was the most positive thing he has said to her all night.

"Apologies aren't needed; it's an honor to dance with the Prince of Asgard." Flattery didn't suit her very well.

"You were thrown into this simply because my brother doesn't know anything besides drinking himself into a stupor.," Loki made excuses for everything, being the God of Mischief and Lies.

"Tis a pleasure to dance with you, though." She smiled brightly at him as they twisting to the music. The red of her dress twirled to rival his cape's emerald cascade. It was a shock to Loki that somebody wasn't sour in his company. The touch of a woman was absolutely alien to him.

The dance was neither fast, nor slow; quick enough to keep conversation low, but slow enough to not tire them. The two were fluid on the floor, their feet never tripping. For every strong step Loki made, the servant countered with an equal step. Elegance wafted off of the two as they waltzed, both making sure to never lose eye contact.

"You dance extremely well for a villager," the Prince said tactfully, careful not to step on any toes. In the back of his mind he wondered why he was being cautious.

She smiled sadly, 'There's more than appearances, you know." The song spawned a dip between the duo. As he suspended her, her hair fell into a mahogany waterfall, revealing her bare shoulders. Mostly bare, rather. On her left shoulder there was a bright pink, shiny crescent. Loki kept his composure, but his mind raced to theories towards it's origin.

They were upright again, the music ending an explosion of sound. The room had stepped to the side to watch the Prince and his peddler dance, leaving only them on the floor. Both parties were breathing heavily, holding their last position. Eyes stayed locked and anyone in the room that night would have sworn they were talking through their eyes.

Applause washed over them, bouncing off of the walls with voices calling out in approval. The girl's face colored, lowering her hands and turning out to bow. Loki followed suit and bowed, his face stoic but his emerald eyes ablaze. A fire had been ignited inside of him because of this girl, and the quicker he could get past the publicity, the sooner he could get back to her.

When he turned back around to converse with the girl, his red-headed partner was heading out of the door.

"Wait!" Loki panicked. He wanted, he _needed_, to know more about this siren to capture his interest. "Where are you going?"

"I told you, I don't belong here." Her eyes were sad, but frantic. "I must take my leave.

"Might I at least inquire your name? He was desperate for an inkling of detail to cling to.

She looked him dead in the eye before answering.

"Kiarr... Kiarr Lindivdotter." And with that, she was gone.


	2. Bodily Ailments

The sun peeked through the thin curtains, disrupting the peaceful dark room. A birds' happy chirp flew through the window on the wing of a breeze. One sullen eye opened to look at the intruder. The sleeper had one arm limp over the edge of the bed, one leg poking out from the covers. She flexed her fingers and grabbed whatever her hand touched first. A shoe went flying through the air, hitting the spot right next to where the bird perched. It flew away with ruffled weathers.

"Miserable creature..." The girl groaned darkly. She threw her face into the pillow because she was not ready to get on with the day. A soft knock echoed from her door.

"Kiarr? Sweetheart? Are you up?" A lovely voice whispered from behind the wood.

"Yes, ma'maw. I'm awake now." Her voice muffled by the cloth.

"Good. Don't waste the days' light, honey." Footsteps padded away form the door, leaving Kiarr to get up the rest of the way on her own. Sighing, the auburn rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Thoughts and memories of last night floated through her mind. Had she really danced with Loki, Prince of Asgard? Did she really confess her deepest secret to him after having been in his company for less than an hour? Surely it must have just been a dream. A roll of her shoulder told her otherwise.

"So it was real..." She mulled to herself. That damned mark on her shoulder would be the death of her one day.

"No sense moping around." She flung her legs limply over the side of the bed and heaved herself upright. Heavy steps lead her to the wardrobe, where she shifted through the different dresses. She wanted to wear something that highly contrasted the fire of a garment she dawned last night. In the end, the victor was a knee-length gray dress, with sleeves running loose down to her elbows. The neck scooped down some, keeping her from feeling constricted but not revealing anything. Kiarr grabbed a knotted-braid belt and threw it around the waist of the dress, cinching it snugly. A pair of brown goddess shoes were slipped over her feet before leaving the room. She quickly ran her fingers through her hair as she walked to the kitchen.

"Good morning, sleepy princess," a male voice chuckled at her.

"Thanks, Aldite. I love it when I'm treated like a princess as soon as I wake up," Kiarr smiled and gave her father a hug around his shoulders. She drew a seat next to him at the island.

"What would you like for breakfast this morning, Princess?" Her mother played along with the joke.

"Oh, an omelet of pure gold, with diamond toppings, a glass of freshly captured sun rays, and a side of ruby strawberries, please." The family laughed at the outlandish requests.

"I'll just have a cup of coffee," Kiarr grabbed her favorite clay mug from the sink, rinsing it's contents from the morning before.

"Surely you need more than that," Her mother frowned at the choice of meal.

"I've never been overly fond of first meal, Lindiv." She poured the dark liquid into the cup, adding three big spoons of sugar and a dash of milk.

"You don't get nearly as much food as you should," Lindiv scowled, brushing Kiarr's hair off of one shoulder.

Kiarr smiled, "I'm plenty healthy, ma'maw. I can skip a meal or two." She took a sip of her drink, savoring the rich flavor.

"Yes, well, you **are** going to eat noon meal, then." And that was the end of the conversation.

"I think I shall spend some time at the library today," she stated as she downed the last of the hot beverage. She didn't surprise anyone when she said this.

"Well, your mother and I are to go out to market today and sell our fall crops. Tidy up the house a bit, and the day is yours," Aldite said.

"And speaking of, dear, we need to start going now. If we don't move before the sun gets too high, we'll never make a good place in the bazaar." Lindiv patted her husbands shoulder and slipped on her shoes.

"Oh, do you suppose you might scavenge some shell paints? I wish to work on a new mural soon, but my supply is low." Kiarr dug into her pocket and withdrew a handful of coins.

"We'll see, but knowing how busy it gets, we might not have the chance to. Not unless, you wish for us to stay the night. We will sell today, and shop tomorrow, if that would appease you." Aldite stood and rolled his broad shoulders to roll off the stiffness of sleep.

"I do believe I can manage the house for two days, ma'maw taught me well," the daughter smiled at her mother.

"I did indeed. I just worry about you, especially after-" Kiarr cut her off quickly.

"I know. You don't have to worry about it; much less talk about it. I'll only be out of the house when it's light out or if I have someone with me." She hated that her mother always brought _that_ up now.

"I'll always worry about you, dear; you mean the world to me," Lindiv ran a hand through Kiarr's red hair. She nuzzled the motherly hand.

"I'm strong; you made it so. Do not fret over me. Go, the sun is rising quickly." She ushered her loving parents off. "Be safe.."

It didn't take long for the house to be clean. They were a small family that was very active and rarely in the house, so the only messes they made were meals and clothes. As Kiarr scrubbed the dishes clean, her mind wander to that night. She tried often not to think about it, but considering it literally changed her life, it was a hard topic to stay away from. Most everyone in the small village wouldn't look her in the eye out of fear. Why did he have to be there? Why did they say those awful things? Where would she be now if it hadn't happened?

Kiarr was so lost in thought she'd forgotten the dish she was cleaning. The aggression and confusion kept building up until – SNAP!

"For the love of Odin!" She cursed as clay pieces shattered in the sink, one cutting her cheek. A hand slapped the incision, the other grabbing a cloth and picking up the broken plate. It wasn't the first piece of china to be destroyed due to her wandering thoughts, and it wouldn't be the last, but it deeply bothered her. She hated knowing that it was so easy for her to lose herself in her own mind, the dark and twisted prison it was becoming. It was time to get some air; she would finish cleaning up later.

Kiarr slung her bad over her head and headed out the door, making sure to lock it behind her. It was a gorgeous day in Asgard; the sun shined brightly with not but a single cloud in the sky. Birds like the ones that perched her window this morning chirped along with a choir of other feathered species. A breeze made the hem of her dress dance, her sleeves flapping gracefully. The auburn-beauty knew it was too soon to head to the library; being confined was not what needed right now. She walked down the cobblestone street and pondered where to go to. A brilliant idea flashed through her mind, a bright smile hitting her face. She started a light jog down the path, giggling with each step.

A knock resounded on the maple door as Kiarr waited patiently.

"Yes?" The door opened to a tall, thin boy with a sandy hurricane of curls that cascaded down into his eyes.; deep blue orbs trapped behind thick-rimmed glasses. A wide grin stretched to his ears when he recognized his visitor.

"Kiarr!" The boy threw his arms around the lithe girl, squeezing her tightly to him.

"Hello, Viil," She chuckled and ruffled his curls.

"What brings you here on this ordinary day?" The boy named Viil asked as he welcomed her into his home.

"Is it so uncommon for one to visit their friends?" She jested towards him as they moseyed to the living area where they flopped ungracefully onto the small sofa.

"I suppose not, though I must say it is a pleasant surprise to see you," He smiled over at Kiarr.

"What are your plans for today?" She questioned him.

"I haven't any; that is, unless you are to make plans for me," Viil knew that a visit from friend would only end in adventure.

"Would you mind accompanying me to the lake? We could fish, perhaps swim?" Her head lolled onto the back of the couch and turned to look at him.

"How about instead of the lake, we go to the Tree?" Kiarr hadn't thought of that.

"That sounds wonderful! Let us go!" She hopped up and grab Viil's hands hoisted him from his seat. Kiarr always underestimated her strength; Viil had flew out of his seat and crashed into her to stop . They were standing awkwardly, hand in hand, just inches from each other.

"My – my bad," She blushed and dropped his hand.

"It's alright, no harm done," He scratched the back of his head. "I'll just go grab my bag then."

He turned and walked to the back of his house. Kiarr shook herself, rubbing her left shoulder. It tingled again, but nothing like it had last night. She hated that her life was constantly affected by this. She pondered the peculiar feeling that just passed by them. Her stomach had knotted and her pulse quickened. _Was this what people experience when in love? _The thought floated through her head without warning. The red-head shook herself once more; she didn't need to be thinking of that.

Viil entered the room again, returning with a bag over his shoulder. "Ready?" He offered his arm to her, a cheesy smile dominating his face.

A small smile snuck onto her face, "Off for an adventure!" They both laughed heartily. The sun was almost at it's highest point, but the duo didn't seem to mind. They started down the path towards their secret hideout, steps synchronized.

Viil broke the silence. "I mean to ask you, whatever happened to that cheek of yours?" Kiarr's hand flew up to touch the cut.

"Oh, I had already forgotten about it. It was nothing really.." She cast her eyes to the opposite side of the road.

"You're terrible at trying to hide things from me; why do you try?" He joked.

"I broke another dish today. Thank goodness it wasn't as valuable as the platter I ruined last time."

"Doesn't it trouble you, always having this happen?" He looked over at his friend worriedly.

"It use to, but it no longer does. There are somethings you simply learn to accept," She smiled up at Viil. The two swapped small talk for the rest of the walk. Kiarr rarely got out of the house, so she relied on Viil to keep her up to date on the latest scandals in town. There was apparently a case of adultery between a newly wed couple, a robbery of crops from the local market, and a small fire that she had missed in her oblivion.

The two laughed and chatted without a care in the world. At one point they wandered form the path and into a small thicket. Viil would step down on the thorny vines so that Kiarr could pass without her or her dress getting pricked. A duck under this branch, a jump over a log and they had arrived.

In the heart of the thicket rest a proud oak tree. It's branches reached towards the heavens, it's roots burrowing into the ground. It would take a giant to knock this tree over. Bright colors of green, orange and red bloomed on every branch. Birds chirped from their hidden nests. The sense of everything made Kiarr visibly relax.

"Hello, dear Cosain," She whispered as her hand graced the bark. It wandered to a knot that she used to fling herself up into the trees caress. She kicked her feet playfully at Viil.

"What are you waiting for? Join me!" She called down. He laughed in reply and chased her up the tree. Their laughs mingled with the calls of the birds. As they raced, they threw small little insults at each other, laughing at how silly the last one was. Kiarr was almost to their sitting spot in the tree, but the playfulness had disarmed her vigilance. She went to step on a branch but her foot somehow missed and she overturned. A small squeak escaped her lips.

"What are you waiting for?" Viil mocked unknowingly.

"I'll be right there." She tried to keep her voice steady, but because of her position her breath was labored.

"Are you alright?" He looked between the arms of the trees trying to find her. She was quick on her feet though.

"Yes, I'm fine." She was already behind him and gave him a small push. He panicked and grabbed the tree.

"That was not humorous." He scowled at her.

"Oh yeah? Why am I laughing, then?" Kiarr threw her head back and laughed fully. But before she could finish it, Viil grabbed her by the waist Her put her out on a branch that he knew wouldn't support her weight if her let her go.

"Put me back! Bring me back to the plateau!" Kiarr clung desperately to his arm.

"Apologize and I will." Kiarr groaned.

"You're honestly putting my life on the line for an innocent prank?"

"Is that not what you had just done with me?"

"But I _knew _you wouldn't fall!"

"And who's to say I don't know the very same right now?"

"Fine! I'm sorry for almost pushing you out of the nest; now bring me back!" She ushered through the apology. Viil chuckled and lifted back into the landing. The couple had found this escape a couple of years ago. They had both been rather bitter towards how their parents were treating them and were looking for a place to get away from it all. Kiarr was the climber of the duo, and while she was swinging around in the treetops, she landing in this large, unoccupied hole. Each week they brought small blankets or fabric to furnish the bottom. Eventually enough, it was a 'liveable' space. They had extra blankets for when it got cold, and the tree was tall enough to always catch a light wind no matter what.

Kiarr lied on the padding, glad for something solid underneath her. Viil settled himself next to her and they simply stayed like that for some time. It was calming to the both of them, but Kiarr couldn't have help but feel odd about it. She was always comfortable with Viil, but things were starting to change. She rolled her shoulder out of habit, and he noticed.

"Does it hurt?" He asked quietly.

"A bit, but it's only a faint sting. It's not throbbing like it was -" She caught herself.

"Like what?"

"No – nothing," She rolled onto her side with her back towards him.

"What aren't you telling me, Kiarr?" He sat up to look at her.

"Well, you know how we had the gala last night?"

"Yes," He replied.

"I might have danced with someone..." She murmured.

"That's nothing to fret over, though."  
"It might have been one of the Princes.."

"WHAT? YOU DANCED WITH THOR?" He exclaimed.

"Why do people always make such assumptions? No, I didn't dance with Thor!" She rolled back over to face him.

"But you said -"

"Yes, I did dance with a prince of Asgard, but it wasn't Thor; it was Loki."

"How did you even-" He started in disbelief.

"I shouldn't have told you; forget I said anything." She quickly stood and began climbing back down the tree.

"Kiarr, wait!" She didn't listen to him. She hit the ground hard, her ankle twisting oddly. She wondered to herself why she was so upset about Viil's reaction. Ignoring all of his calls, she jogged as best she could with her ankle away from the tree. She couldn't see where she was going because tears blurred her vision.

"Stop it, Kiarr. You will _not_ cry," The auburn scolded herself. One of the things she hated most was crying; to her it was a sign of weakness. Too caught up in her thoughts, her feet carried her on their own. They followed the path and when she came back to reality, she was sitting on the floor of the library.

"Well, at least I'll find comfort here." Kiarr stayed in her spot, pondering everything. By now, her shoulder was pulsing lightly beneath her skin.

"Maybe I should look for..." Her voice trailed off with the thought now sprung in her head. She pulled herself up and limped over to the records section of the library. Large, leather bound books that were yellowed with age stood in heavy looking bookshelves. Her hands skimmed over the spines, looking for a certain volume.

"L...L...Ah, here it is," She was going to take the book from its shelf when she bumped into someone. Because of her ankle being sore, she lost her balanced and fell back to the ground.

"Oh, my apologies." A hand extended to help her up. She took it, flinching slightly at the cold touch.

"Thank you," She was back on her feet and hissed because the fall had worsened her ankle.

"Are you hurt?" The voice asked her. She didn't see the owner because her eyes were shut in pain.

"I landed on my ankle wrong, and I think I've twisted it further."

"Would you like me to look at it?"

"Yes, please," She sat in the nearest chair and tipped her head back. The cold touch probed her ankle, making her jump.

"This might feel odd." What followed was a warm, tingling sensation. It felt as though someone were pouring water underneath her skin and on the muscle itself. She sighed in relief, the pain washing away instantly.

"It should be better now, but I would advise you to walk gingerly."

"Thank you very -" She voice caught in her throat when she saw who the healer was.

"It's you." They said together, gray eyes meeting green.

* * *

******DUN DUN DUN! Who did she meet at the library, hmmmm? Reviews are much much much appreciated. They make me feel all bubbly inside! THANK YOU!**


	3. Let The Games Begin

He looked at her. She looked at him. They stared at each other. Both were dazed by the others' presence. Kiarr's mouth opened and shut, searching for something to say.

Loki broke the silence, "You have the book I was looking for." She looked down at the record book in her lap.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You can use it first; I've looked through it already. I just wanted to check again."

The slightest pink crept up her neck.

"If I may be so bold, what is it you research?" He placed the book on the table and pulled out the chair opposite her.

"Well," She started, "I've always been curious about my past. My parents love me dearly, and I so them, but I know that they aren't my legitimate parents. I don't know how I know this, but I just have this feeling in my heart that I'm somewhat different. I was hoping that I could find something in the archives of the town, but it's nothing I couldn't figure out myself."

How was it that every time that Loki ran into this girl, she delved into his deepest thoughts?

Kiarr scoffed, "What am I saying, I _know_ I'm not their child..." She hung her head, a curtain of red separating them.

"It is exhausting, being different, isn't it?" Loki whispered. Kiarr looked at him peculiarly.

"It is, but how would you know?" She didn't mean to be bitter, but after years of being isolated she found the subject tender.

"Have you not looked at me? Given, looks are not the only defining characteristic, they are what one judges at first," He spoke without breaking eye contact. Between the harsh truth he was speaking, and the bright green pigment of his eyes, Kiarr was transfixed.

"But you're a prince, surely that changes how people treat you," She always thought royalty was a glorious gift.

He laughed at the assumption, "Oh yes, it makes all the difference. Instead of people thinking you odd, they respect you out of fear of punishment. I often wonder what it would be like to be a villager and different instead of famous."

"No, you don't..." Kiarr whispered, her head dropping once again. Loki's head tilted slightly to the side, contemplating her reaction. Staring at the waterfall of fire that replaced her eyes, it struck Loki that that's exactly how she lived. It was a great achievement for someone to make the God of Mischief feel contrite, but she had successfully done so with three words.

"I – I'm sorry, I didn't mean -" he stumbled over his words; being sorry was a foreign feeling to him.

"Do not apologize, I do not need your sympathy. It was childish of me to react as such, in any case." She brushed her hair to her back, blinking several times. "If you'll excuse me, I shan't interrupt your reading." She stood briskly and made to walk to the other side of the library.

"Wait," The prince grabbed her wrist. "Stay with me." She looked perplexed. "I would much enjoy the company," He explained. Kiarr hesitated for a moment before resuming her seat.

"Might I ask what it is _you_ are researching?" The question caught him off-guard, for he had not planned on running into the dancer.

"I was simply looking over the records for my father," He lied easily. There was not a chance for him to tell her his _true_ reason for coming here.

"And you started with L?" She asked with one eyebrow quirked.

"I've been through the other volumes already; this is simply where I left off from my last visit." Another white lie slipping through his teeth.

"But I've never seen you here before. I know most everyone who is here; I run the library more days than not. Hunlit is often busy, and I was here almost everyday as a child, so when I became old enough he asked for my assistance. I tend to the books, keep it clean, run the book logs, and much other. There is rarely a day when I'm not here, and I'm rather vigilant; I know most of who enter here. I do believe this is the first time I've seen you here, and unless I'm mistaken, the record books are different for every library." She pinned him with facts, making it quite a challenge to lie his way out. He stared at her for a moment, thinking of what to say without blowing his cover.

"Is it so odd to do the opposite of what is normal?"

Kiarr's eyebrow quirked once again, "Considering you just said that you despise being singled out, yes, it is odd." He came to the conclusion that she was a valiant debating opponent.

"With people, yes, but books do not judge one. Books are free of prejudice. They never question, they only accept." He threw poetic words at her to try and break down her argument. She stared at him momentarily, and then smiled.

"You are a book-lover." The statement changed the aura of the conversation.

"Quite; knowledge is a far more powerful weapon then metal and leather. Why ignore intellect that is readily given?" His plan on looking at her records were now disseminated; he would much rather learn about her by talking to Kiarr herself.

"Few appreciate the wisdom words have. You, however, embrace it. Tis a good trait to have." She smiled again. Loki decided he much preferred her smile to her frown. The lines on her face when she was disappointed aged her greatly, but when she smiled, it was like the light around her brightened.

"Are you a magic user?"

"No," she answered, "though magic has always fascinated me. I've had neither a teacher nor the time or place of which I could try to learn. I take it that you are?" He looked confused for a moment. "You healed my ankle," She explained.

"Oh, yes; I know magic well. Does your ankle still pain you?" Loki bounced the talk back on her.

Kiarr ran a hand over the injured appendage, "It feels odd, but not painful."

"The first injuries you have healed with magic often feel peculiar afterward. It will wear off soon enough. How was it inflicted, if I may know?"

"I simply jumped out of a treetop, but I hadn't prepared myself to land properly; my mind was a little occupied..." Her eyes glazed over remembering her argument with Viil. She knew the apology would be awkward, and she wasn't looking forward to it, but it had to be done.

"You had a quarrel with someone," Loki read Kiarr like a book.

"I – Um, yes, I did," she stammered, "I had told a friend that I had danced with a prince last night, and he automatically assumed it was Thor. I don't know why, but I was severely upset by it, so I stormed off. He tried to follow after me, but I wouldn't listen to him." Her confession rushed from her lips. What was it about the dark-haired prince that made her so comfortable to keep spilling her secrets? He was the God of Mischief; she shouldn't trust him at all, and yet she did.

Loki was quiet before answering, "You jumped out of a tree because a colleague of yours did not believe you danced with me?" His tone was far beyond surprised.

"Yes," Kiarr stated simply, "I do not wish him to treat the dance as anything less than an honor. He seems to think if it is not Thor, it is less royal. The insufferable fool needs to open his eyes... It makes me wonder why he even talks to me."

"He clearly finds you extraordinary." Loki did not hear what he had said. He knew he spoke, but the words went past his mind, which had wandered from the conversation. Just two meetings with this girl, and she was slowly possessing his mind. She was different like him, dark-haired and intellectually powered. She saw everyone in the same light, everyone was equal in her eyes. How had she remained hidden from him for all this time?

"Prince Loki?" Kiarr reached out and touched his hand to catch his attention. The touch jolted him back into reality.

"I'm sorry, what was it you said?"

"I had said that no one finds me sociable, much less extraordinary. Barely anyone in the village will make eye-contact with me; mothers hide their children behind them when I pass by. A law has even been passes that I cannot be without an escort passed dusk. And all because of one night..." Kiarr, the girl who absolutely hated tears, who didn't cry at all when her pets died, who barely frowned at funerals, sat in the library with angry tears streaming down her cheeks. Loki sat awkwardly; he did not socialize. He didn't know how to react to a crying maiden, but he convinced himself to at least try and help her.

"Please, do not cry. Tears are not a suitable look for you." _Great, Loki; tell her she looks bad, excellent plan._

"My deepest apologies, I do not know why my emotions are not in check today." The villager frantically wiped away the salty brine from her face.

"Do you wish to speak of it?" He tried to offer her condolence.

" I haven't talked about the incident since it happened..." Her head dropped in shame.

"If you are not comfortable sharing then let us move onto another topic."

"I much appreciate your understanding. It is not something I can bring myself to talk of yet." A silence fell between the two. Kiarr silently scolded herself for her tears; Loki contemplated the auburn sitting opposite him. The girl tried to push away the details of that night, the boy tried to memorize as many details of this day as he could. Kiarr felt comfortable around the dark prince; the silence wasn't awkward. She looked up to find him looking at her with such wonder. Their eyes locked and they both felt what happened next.

Green clashed on gray, and something sparked behind both. It was as if the was a branch that snapped in the air between them. A flash of sights and memories rushed in both of their heads. Kiarr saw images of Odin, and Thor, of the royal palace; Loki caught glimpses of Cosain, of her hut, of the village. They both shared the feeling of reject and fake love, of not quite fitting the mold. A white light blinded the both of them, and they were thrown into a white room.

They stood just inches from each other, both bearing white clothing. There was nothing in the room, you could only just tell of the perimeter. Neither spoke, but instead, their thoughts were amplified through the room.

"What just happened?" Kiarr's voice echoed through the air, distorted and whispered.

"I'm not sure," Loki's thoughts matched the texture of Kiarr's, simply deeper.

"_**The moon remains lonely, until the stars accompany her.**_**" **A different voice rang, a mix of a woman and man's. The two looked around for the speaker. Before they could find them, Kiarr's eyes went wide and a she drew a sharp breath. Her hand flew to her shoulder, palming the birthmark. It was searing with pain underneath the skin. She ground her teeth together and screwed her eyes shut to keep from yelling out.

"Kiarr –" Loki started but was cut off by an immense pain hitting him. His right shoulder was assaulted with three prongs of white hot agony. It felt like someone took a knife and was carving into the junction between his arm and neck. He dropped to his knees, a shout of pain involuntarily leaving his lips. Kiarr fell to her knees in front of him, a gasp escaping her.

"_**The neglected Prince, and the rejected Goddess, finally united. Many a quest shall you face together, now. Whether this is a blessing or a curse depends on how you treat it.**_" The voice boomed through the spasms of pain they were suffering. Each had a hand to their shoulders, doubled over.

"_**Join.**_" Came the command. The hands that were coaxing away pain were drawn away against their will. Blood had stained both Loki and Kiarr's shoulder and hands The sleeves over the injuries melted away and revealed the afflictions. Kiarr's crescent-shaped birthmark was dripping with blood. Loki's shoulder had a new addition, however. A large star was located close to his collarbone, trailed by two smaller stars. Their foreheads came together and they used each other as support. Their hands intertwined, against their will once more. Bloodied shoulders met, a hiss of pain coming from the pair.

"_**Thine blood be bound, thine minds connected, and thine fate intertwined. Do not stray from destiny, for there will be consequences.**_" A huge flow of energy passed through the two. Bright blue smoke billowed around Kiarr, a vibrant green cloaked Loki. The vapors twirled around in the air, and the duo could feel the other leaking into their mind, body, and soul. Both gasped aloud, sparks erupting in the smoke. A great sense of pain washed through them, started from their toes and leading up to their heads. By the time it reached the brain, their bodies could not handle the pain and they both collapsed, the white room fading around them.

When they awoke, they were lying on the library floor, their hands still entwined. Kiarr bolted up and quickly regretted it. Every joint in her body shrieked in protest, the room around her swam behind her eyes.

"Kiarr!" Loki flew over to her and caught her before she hit the floor again. The contact of their bodies sent small shocks through them. Kiarr quickly shook out of his embrace.

"I don't know what just happened, and for once, I don't wish to find out. I wish to go home, and to sleep, and to have this just be a terrible dream." Her words hit Loki like a brick. Why did it stir feelings of anger and anguish inside him?

"You do not wish to know why I was just branded, for the lack of a better term? For why we were just blood-bond?" His tone was harsh.

Kiarr knitted her eyebrows together, "Oh, I do not know. Part of me is curious, but my body is screaming for rest. Perhaps I shall want to know tomorrow, but the present is not the time for exploration." She stood, shakily, and gathered her belongings. Loki followed suit, his temper subsided by the possibility of shared time in the future.

"Oh, no." Kiarr's voice filled with dread.

"What is it?" He followed her gaze to the window.

"Night has fallen. I'm in need of an escort now, and Viil certainly won't respond to my pigeon." She ran a hand through her red-tinted locks.

"Would you allow me to escort you home, given the circumstances?" He offered.

She didn't look too thrilled, "Would you? I would be forever in your debt.

"Consider it a thank you for the dance at last night's gala." He held out his arm, and Kiarr took it graciously.

They left the library, being careful to stay on the cobblestone path. Kiarr threw nervous glances over her shoulder constantly, and Loki let her. He knew there would be no easing her mind. She led him past houses and shops, all with darkened windows. The village felt morbid and abandoned at night, contrasting its' jovial activities during the day. They twisted and turned until he thought they surely must be near the edge of the town.

They arrived at her house, where a single light was on. A boy with sandy curls came flying through the front door and took Kiarr into his arms.

"I'm sorry for everything I said to you today, Kiarr; please forgive me," his words catching in his throat.

"Viil, it's fine," She patted his back, despite his height. "Aldite and Lindiv aren't back yet?"

Viil's face dropped when she asked. "Kiarr, they..." His voice trailed off. Loki knew immediately what had happened; he'd given the news many a time before.

"Viil, where are my parents?" Kiarr's whole body was tense.

"Your parents are dead."


	4. The Unraveling

"No…" Kiarr shook her head, "They can't – that's not –. " Her knees gave out and both Loki and Viil rushed to her sides.

"Kiarr, I am _so_ sorry –. " Viil shook his head, tears dropping from his eyes. Loki felt intrusive for being a part of this. He had only just met her and he was witnessing a life-changing event.

"I don't believe you. Aldite, Lindiv…" Her breath caught in her throat, tears threatening to flood her face at any moment. Her eyes were glazed over, pupils retracted and her jaw was slack. If the boys weren't holding onto her arms, she would have fallen to the ground. Loki, who is naturally cool, could feel Kiarr's temperature drop.

"It was at the market," Viil started to explain; "They were going to cook the fish for a customer. The bakers had an oven and fire that they were willing to let them borrow."

"Stop, don't –, " Kiarr hands went to her ears. "I don't want to hear about it."

Viil ignored her request, "The sun was oddly bright today, and everything was warmer than usual. Aldite was over with the blacksmith, while Lindiv was cooking the salmon. Another customer had showed up to their tent, so she went to help them. She had forgotten about the pan, and it caught aflame. It climbed to the tent overhead, and before she could even register that there was a fire, it had already consumed the tent. The supports had buckled from the heat and Lindiv was caught beneath the cloth."

"You're lying."

"Aldite rushed over to try and save her, but he got wrapped up in the burning material. Nobody could get to water fast enough. Your parents, along with Yuni Dendotter and Rhuvl Conson, perished in the fire. I am _truly_ sorry."

Though tears were very prudent in her eyes, Kiarr refused to cry.

"I don't believe you." She shook her head, trying to dispel the thought of her parents lying dead in the market.

"Kiarr, why would I ever lie to you? _Why_?" Viil tried to no avail to keep his emotions to himself. Loki looked between the two; the tension in the air thick enough to slice it.

"Why don't we discuss this inside?" Though it was dark outside, the prince could see Kiarr's skin turning a shade of blue. He thought she was going to pass out and took tentative steps towards the door. Viil shot him a thankful look through misty eyes. They moved Kiarr a few inches forward, practically dragging her feet to the house. Negative words spilled from underneath her voice, her head continually shaking. Viil was murmuring apologies and stroking her back. From the corner of his eye, Loki could see Kiarr blinking back the tears furiously. The trio was halfway to the door when it happened.

Strength rushed into Kiarr's body; she shook her arms out of their grasp. She took off running, not paying attention to where she was going.

"Kiarr!" The two voices called after her, unheard because of the wind in her ears. Adrenaline pumped through her legs, her arms, her heart. Each of her senses was amplified tenfold; her sight was crystal clear – she could see every detail that flew by – no sound went by unheard, even if they were muffled. As she ran, her hands came and went in her vision, but she could see that they were a deep blue. She could smell the flowers, the manure from the horse ranch, the grass, and the ghost of fresh bread from the long closed bakery. It started raining, but Kiarr barely felt it against her now ice-cold skin. It was brought to her attention that she had been literally biting back sobs when the taste of copper flooded her mouth. She ignored her lungs screaming for oxygen and kept running. Her mind was still in haze, and once again relied on her body to carry her away. Kiarr was so focused on not breaking down that she didn't even register that she had climbed up into Cosain's nest.

There she sat; her ankles crossed and her knees drawn to her chest. She looked up at the sky above her and took a deep breath. Her head dropped back down and her eyes bounced around. She didn't know what to focus on, because her mind was all over the place. Her hands caught her attention and she lifted them. From fingertips down to her toes, her skin was inked blue, spots here and there being raised and darker. Kiarr laughed sardonically. It was as if the Norns were punishing her further. Not only was she without her parents, but she was painfully reminded that they were never her true parents. A moment of grief passed before a wave of resentment washed over her.

These two people knowingly let a monster into their home. She could have easily killed them at any point, and yet they did nothing to protect themselves. They kept her in the dark for years, made believe that she was one of them. There was no way possible for them to be _that_ ignorant; to only find out that day. Why was it that she always paneled back to when that happened? Obviously, because it changed her as a person. She no longer looked at the villagers the same, for they looked on her with fear. She knew then that she truly didn't belong, that her past was a lie. And yet Aldite and Lindiv did not kick her out! They merely brushed it aside! They didn't tell her what the reason behind her outburst was, they just said that everybody acts out when they are young! How could they have been so daft?

Kiarr started shaking with rage, her temperature dropping even further. Surely they did not see her as daft? She stood up and paced around the nest. She ran a hand through her dark red hair, mulling over everything her parents had once told her. She was talking softly to herself, her words harsh. Her pace began to quicken, her voice increasing in volume.

"Why would they not tell me? Did they think that if I knew what I was I would kill them? Or did they think that by not telling me, by raising me as a villager it would just go away? Were they stuck with me? Had they done something awful, and their punishment was to raise a freak? And they expected that after I killed that boy that I wouldn't be more curious? What, did they expect me to simply forget it? How could I forget what it felt like to wrap my hands around his neck and –." She screamed out and flung her arms around.

Shards of ice flew from her fingertips and pierced the blankets. Kiarr looked curiously between them and her hands. Experimentally, she raised her hand and slashed it through the air. A line of daggers sailed through the air and landed deeply in the tree branches. A rush of power overcame her and she spun around, sending projectiles in every direction. A wicked grin crept across her face. She channeled all of her anger into these tiny thorns of ice, sending them everywhere. She jumped from her nest and swung on a branch, frost clinging to where she held. A fleet went into the neighboring tree, some of them shattering on impact. Jumping from branches, Kiarr kept throwing daggers, seeing how fast they could fly and how deep into the bark they cut. She was so frustrated and at one point pictured her target tree as her parents. The ice flew and landed with a sickly crack. Had they actually been there, they would both have died immediately.

The thought of being the one to kill Aldite and Lindiv put a stop to her insanity. The auburn flung herself back to the heart of Cosain. The sudden discovering atop the run here had exhausted her physically. She collapsed in the middle, laying flat on her back. Thinking about the fact that they were actually dead caused a tear to slip down her cheek; silent but deadly. Another followed, and another after that. She couldn't stop them from falling now. Her breath hitched in her throat and the sobbing began. She cried for her parents and for herself. Her life was gone now. Her past was gone now. Lindiv and Aldite had literally been the only family she'd ever known. Memories flooded her vision as she howled in anguish.

Aldite swinging her around in the backyard while Lindiv was in the kitchen making supper. Sitting around the fireplace during the holidays, singing merrily. Her small self running away as the two chased her around the house, trying to get her to bathe. She remember trying to make breakfast for everyone once. She had dropped the flour bin, and dropped eggs onto the floor. How she managed to make small, barely-edible pancakes without setting the house on fire, she would never know.

Setting the house on fire... A wave of new tears rushed over her as she thought of Lindiv covered in flames as Aldite tried to pat it out. She could almost smell the burning flesh and hair. She could see the look of pain on her father's face as he watched her mother slowly die. She maddened herself with the image of the light leaving their eyes.

Never again would they scold her for being late home. Never again would they wake her on her birthday with songs and presents. They would never laugh at her stumbling about the house. They would never again joke about her and Viil being a couple. Gone were the days of praising her artworks; of Aldite droning on about what happened at his work, while Lindiv countered with gossip from the village. She could no longer hear their laughter at her morning appearance. No more inside jokes were to be made; existing ones would fade into just a whisper of a memory.

"I need you two..." Kiarr spoke her first words in hours. "You can't leave me... YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!" She shouted to the heavens, scaring every bird in the vicinity. "How am I suppose to live without you?" The auburn collapsed with a whimper. She tried with all of her will power to slow her heart. She breathed deeply and wiped away the salt from her face. Above her, the night sky was deep blue and peppered with stars. There were no clouds in the sky, and the crescent moon shined brightly. Kiarr started to count the number of stars on the canopy. It was bittersweet, because that's exactly what Aldite taught her to do if she were ever upset. She couldn't dwell on the memory for long, because before she knew it, she had already fallen to sleep.

Her slumber was fitful; horrid flashes of fires and screams haunted her. She had one dream of a fiery Lindiv and Aldite following her everywhere; reaching towards her to spread the flames.

"We can be together again if you stay still, love!" Lindiv's voice was pitched and crazy.

"Don't you want to be with us? You know we love you, dear. Come and sleep with us," Aldite came dangerously close to her. Kiarr could feel the flames dancing off his body. For a second, she considered joining them. She wouldn't be in pain; not for long at least. A feather of fire flew off of her father's arm and landed on her. It was then that she was brutally reminded she was dreaming. She couldn't actually be with them. Her subconscious was simply toying with her.

"I can't, not now." A flash of mahogany crossed her vision as she shook her head at them. They were coming closer, and closer yet, and she let them. There was nothing she could say to stop them. Their fiery hold enclosed her, warmth surrounding her completely. Tears slid down her cheeks because it all felt so real. It's like they had never left her, and yet she knew completely otherwise.

They grew confused after a moment, "Aren't you coming with us?"

"I told you, I cannot follow you," She said through her tears.

Aldite nodded and then looked up at the sky. Lindiv looked with him, and they started to evaporate.

"Wait, do not go. Please, keep me company!" She was grabbing at the fibers of them that were left.

"We could never stay; we could simply have brought you with us. But, seeing as you won't come along, we must depart now." And once again they were gone.

A scream ripped through her throat as she bolted awake. The sun was high in the sky, temporarily blinding her. Twigs were tangled in her hair and her dress was tattered and torn. She had dirt, and grass, and leaves stuck to her body. Her breath was ragged as sweat dripped down her neck.

_How long have I been asleep_? Kiarr wondered as she pushed herself up. _Well, it doesn't much matter now, does it_? Her thoughts were bitter as she brushed some of the debris off of her. Her eyes swept her surroundings once more. She didn't really want to go back home, and she certainly didn't want to face the house. The thought of it sent shivers down her spine. Her whole life had taken place in that house, with Lindiv and Aldite. She wouldn't be able to make it over the threshold without a memory making her break down. But she had to face it.; it was inevitable. She would make it to the house, but will be damn sure that she's exhausted every other thing to do beforehand.

Kiarr began her descent down the tree slowly; she was obviously in no hurry. Her feet hurt from last night's running and swinging about the tree. She walked with a slight limp, due to the fact that she slept in Cosain instead of a bed. She could hear the town's bustle from beyond the clearing already. Horse hooves on the paths mingled with the shouts of children playing. The girl did not want to have to deal with the 'sympathetic' conversations that were bound to happen if she walked right through the village, so she walked the perimeter. She eventually made it to her house, and at the doorstep lay several small gifts. People had left breads and cakes, along with flowers and little trinkets. Kiarr let out a sigh, picked up the best looking bread and went inside. I'll always worry about you, dear; you mean the world to me.

The house was cold; silent,.. There was still water in the sink from cleaning, and shards of the plate still scattered. She walked to the kitchen and dropped the loaf on the island. She froze in her spot, yesterday's conversations running through her head. Lindiv's last words hung in the air.

"I'll always worry about you, dear; you mean the world to me."

Kiarr's heart was heavy, and her eyes lifeless. It was impossible for her to be in the house without bitter reminders. She would not allow herself to shed more tears. The pieces of the plate needed to be cleaned up, and so she did just that. Careful not to cut herself again, she gathered all the small fragments and threw them out. It was after this that she took off into her room.

The dark-haired outsider ran frantically, picking up story pages, unfinished art projects, anything she could get her hands on that was flammable. Kiarr found a bag hiding under her bed and filled it with a few articles of clothing before tossing into the hallway. She went around the room again and threw trinkets into a box she had grabbed off of a shelf. The room was a state of pure chaos when she left it for her now-deceased parent's room. There she did the same routine and picked up anything with sentimental value. The box was severely full by the end of her rounds.

The orphan slung her bag over her free shoulder and carted the box to the fireplace in the living room. She arranged all of the souvenirs precisely on the coals with the papers atop them. Grabbing a long match from atop the hearth, she struck it alight. The fire danced in her eyes, the closest thing to resemble life since she heard the news last night. Her fingers danced over the flame playfully and she smiled at the heat. Her vision shifted to the pile sitting in pit and quickly tossed the match in. The papers immediately caught to, some of the items were beginning to melt already. Kiarr stared at the pile of memorabilia that was being destroyed. A small voice in the back of her head was saying that she should be feeling remorse, or panic, but there was louder that combated it with the feeling of relief and ecstasy.

Before the blaze became to out of hand, she stood, brushed her knees from where she was kneeling, adjusted her bag and left the house, not looking back. Kiarr knew that in an hour the house would be reduced to a pile of smoldering ashes and she would never have to face those memories again. There was a sick sense of self-righteousness swept over her as she walked down the street to Viil's house.

"Kiarr!" He greeted her once again with a hug.

"Can I stay here? I cannot be in that house." She convinced herself later that she hadn't lied, she simply hadn't told all of the truth.

His face fell, "There's no room here. Besides, you know how my parents feel about you..." A blush crept up his neck and ears.

Kiarr nodded, "I understand. Thank you for your time." She turned on her heel but Viil grabbed her wrist.

"Where are you going to go then?"

"I shall stay with Cosain until I find something more suitable." He wasn't to thrilled with her response but knew better than to argue.

"Well, alright, but be safe." Her eyes darkened at his choice of words, but turned around and headed out. The wanderer did not sleep that night, but instead wrote and drew in a small notebook she tucked away in her bag. The world fell away from her, and she accepted it graciously.

OooooOOoooOO

Viil worried about Kiarr far more than she would ever know. It's like she was oblivious to the way his gaze soften on her, how he was always kind and patient. Never did she show an inkling of returned affection, but Viil had it in his mind that she was simply waiting it out. It struck him today, though, that she had no interest in him as a partner. The realization hit him like a bit of a slap to the face. He slid down to the floor after Kiarr left him in the doorway. His breathing stopped for a second before kicking into over time. His body convulsed from withheld sobs. He was not a man of pride, but if anyone were to see him in this position, the amount of respect he had would drop dramatically.

What could he do for her to make sure she stayed safe if he couldn't even think about her without his throat swelling up? There had to be somebody else who could interact with her, because he knew for certain that if she was left to her own devices, somebody would get hurt – if not herself. The only other people who would talk to her were her parents, though. The villagers could barely look her in the eye because of _that_ incident. He wracked his brain for someone, anyone that would help. A flash of last night skid into his mind's eye.

She had an escort, as she always made sure to. It was a man and he had donned leather and metal. Villagers didn't ever wear those materials – they were farmers, not warriors – so he was from another part of Asgard. It was particularly dark, so his features were lost in the shadows, but Viil tried desperately to recall his face. His eyes! He remembered staring into the vivid green eyes, because he needed to see if was helping or hurting Kiarr. But Aesil didn't have green eyes, most are blue-eyed. There was only one person he could think of in all of Asgard that had green eyes, and he would be terribly hard to get a hold of, but it was Viil's only hope now.

So hopping on his horse's back, he set off for the palace. It wasn't very long before he was at their stables where he tied Hilo to the post. He turned sharply and almost ran head-first into someone.

"Oh, I am sorry, forgive me." His formal habits out and ready for whomever it may be.

"Tis alright, it was but an accident."They exchanged looks and Viil's heart skipped a beat.

"Prince Loki!" His voice jumped an octave.

"Yes?" The royal member cocked one of his eyebrows.

"If I may, I require your assistance in a grave matter."

"If it is as bad as your voice portrays, you best take it to Allfather." Loki started to walk on.

"It's a personal issue, really." He turned to look at Viil.

"What might this be related to, then?"

"It's about Kiarr."


End file.
